“They’ve got a lot of gear in the boat,” said Perrin.
“Presents, I guess,” said Cammock. “A present of fowls and that. Or a case or two of bottles.”
Captain Margaret flushed, walked up and down uneasily, and called to the steward to open wine.
“There’s something queer,” said Cammock to Perrin. “Hark at all them shouts. Gad, sir, I believe they’re being chased. There’s two shore boats after them. Ain’t they smoking, hey?”
Indeed, the pursuing boats were being pulled furiously; their oars were bending.
“What in James is the rally?” said Cammock. “Is Captain Margaret made King of England or anything?”
Perrin looked at Cammock with a flush upon his face.
“Captain Cammock,” he said, “they’re coming aboard us. They’re being chased. I bet they’re flying from their creditors.”
“Lord,” said Cammock.
He watched the chase with deeper interest. Captain Margaret joined them.